Of Pianos and Panic
by IvoryRose888
Summary: It's her eighteenth birthday, and Maka Albarn is finally getting the evening she dreamed of for so long. But, will one unanticipated setback ruin her special night? ***POSSIBLE TRIGGERS FOR THOSE WITH ANXIETY/PANIC ATTACKS***
1. Prelude

11:47.

It was 11:47pm and he still wasn't home. That morning, he'd claimed that he had a test to make up and an assignment due for Stein. Well, that reason turned into a lame excuse at 8, a weak lie at 9, a horrible deceit at 10, and just awful partner status at 11.

What on earth could he be doing at such an hour…

She hardly dared to think of all the possibilities, so she merely sat on the couch, trying to bury her nose in a book until he came home…

* * *

At 1:03 he snuck through the front door, an uneasy grimace on his lips. Crap. That had taken way longer than he'd hoped. Getting everything together was much more of an undertaking than he'd imagined, but the big day was only a week away, and it all had to be perfect…

He froze when he rounded the corner and found Maka glaring at him over the top of a frighteningly thick tome.

"H-Hey, Maka…" He stuttered, knowing all too well what that dangerous glint in her eyes meant….his skull was toast…

"Soul Eater Evans."

Crap. She even threw in the last name. He was beyond screwed.

"WHERE on earth have you been? Do you REALIZE what time it is?!"

Clenching his teeth, he tried to look her full on, but the glimmering jade stared him to silence.

"How could you do this, Soul? HOW could you be so irresponsible?" She threw her book to the couch. A safe sign, for now…"Goofing around so late, ESPECIALLY when final exams are coming up soon?! I thought you were better than this, I really did. How I could believe you were any less perverted and horny than any other teenage boy…"

"Hey, wait a second!" His eyes locked with hers, now burning with indignation. "Don't make any stupid assumptions like that, Maka! I'm not your pervy old man! I wasn't at the Cantina!"

"Well then where WERE you at such an hour?" She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip, a brow raised. He nearly slapped himself for being such a moron…but…Death, she was attractive when she was mad…

"I…um…well…I…" Inhaling through his nose, he mustered every ounce of courage left in him and declared, "Maka, we're going out for your birthday!"

"Wh-what…" She stared.

He swallowed.

"Uh…uhm I said we're going out for your birthday! Just the two of us!…I-is that okay….?"

She stared.

His gaze fell.

"Uh…uhm…."

"It's great, Soul." His head snapped up, his crimson eyes wide as they absorbed her sweet smile. "It sounds like it could be fun. Where are we going?"

"That." He cocked an easy grin, slowly regaining his cool. "Is a surprise!"

Chuckling lightly to herself, she crossed to him, unlacing her arms as she planted a kiss on his cheek. His tan complexion instantly turned bright scarlet under her soft lips.

"Sounds cool."


	2. Preparation

She couldn't believe it. After years of living together, of being partners, of gentle teasing and secret glances, she was finally going on a real date with him. They had skirted the issue for such a long time, but, a week before her eighteenth birthday, he had declared that they were going out together for her special day, just the two of them. What, exactly, this outing entailed she did not know, (he had clammed up as soon as she posed the question, taunting her with that devilish grin of his) but she did know that it was a date. When she posed _that _question, his face had deepened to a shade that rivaled those gorgeous eyes of his. That was answer enough for her.

So, here she found herself, outfitted in her favorite little black dress and heels, her hair down, (instead of in her customary pigtails) just the way he liked it. Finally done with herself, she strutted into the adjoining living room, pouting her lips just a bit to look as sexy as she could for him. She wanted his jaw to hit the floor; this was her special day, after all. When she passed the doorway, though, it was she who was left gawking.

Soul Eater stood in the center of their lavender rug, a bouquet of red and white roses (her favorite) and a fat envelope in his hands. He was sporting that black pinstripe suit and red silk shirt and black tie she loved so much. He looked amazing, and he was obviously as stunned by her appearance as she was by his. For a moment, he stood frozen in place, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape, revealing his perfect, sharp teeth. Then, his gawk transformed into a satisfied smirk as he crossed to the doorway, holding out the flowers to her. Taking the lovely arrangement, she put the bunch to her nose and inhaled deeply, batting her made-up eyes at him in mock seduction. Gently taking the roses from her, Soul strode to their kitchen table and slid the stems into a tall crystal vase. When he turned from her, she caught a whiff of a familiar, musky scent. It was the cologne she bought him. He never wore it because he claimed that he hated "prissy crap like that," but here he was, smelling of old spices and vanilla, just for her on her special day. She hid her triumphant grin before he turned back to her, and this time the envelope was shoved in her direction. Taking it from him, she eagerly tore the paper away, nearly scattering the cards contents on the floor as she did so. The largest item in the card was a menu to her favorite fine dining spot, Reviano's.

"Oh Soul!" she cried elatedly. "You didn't have to! You really shouldn't have, actually. Reviano's is so expensive…"

"It's okay." He grinned arrogantly. "I have ways of making the cash, and, besides, it's your special day. You deserve to be spoiled."

"Thank you." She smiled softly, removing the other items from the card. One was a tiny package, of sorts, an off-white lump in the midst of the other papers.

"Uh, no…" Soul stuttered rapidly, grabbing the trinket before she could object. "That's for later," he declared, his wicked grin teasing her with the secrets it guarded. She sighed, a bit irritated, but then she gasped and nearly squealed with delight when she saw what else was in the card. A cardstock ticket declared: "Soul Eater Presents: Happy Birthday Maka! A Private Performance in Shibusen's Esteemed Music Hall!"

"Oh Soul!" She breathed. "Do you mean it? You'll really play for me?"

"Maybe." He winked mischievously. Grinning and satisfied, Maka let her gaze fall to the familiar scrawl that danced across the card, but not before Soul could snatch it from her, chuckling as he set it on the table. "Not yet, Maka." He stated tauntingly. "That's for later. Now is the time to dine!" He cried as he took her hand and led her out the door and into the night.


	3. Downward Spiral

***WARNING: POSSIBLE TRIGGER FOR THOSE WITH ANXIETY/PANIC ATTACKS, ETC. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION***

* * *

Reviano's was nearly perfect. He knew exactly what she liked and how she liked it. He made the most adorable small talk, and, on more than one occasion, he made her choke on her water with laughter when he told those lame jokes of his. She didn't mind, though; she was with her favorite person on her special day. Everything was almost perfect.

Almost.

The only imperfection during the night was the tic. Or, really, tics.

Hardly noticeable to anyone else, but horribly and disgustingly obvious to her, was the fact that her left eye would not stop twitching throughout the course of the meal, and she could not suppress the overwhelming urge to wind her hair around her slender fingers. Twice she caught herself hiding behind her menu or tapping her foot. This was not good, not good at all, but she knew that thinking about it would only make it worse, so, for Soul's sake as well as her own, she focused every ounce of her concentration on controlling the tics. She did so successfully for the remainder of the meal, and she even managed to uphold the cover after they left the restaurant and headed into the night once again.

* * *

It was a little past nine when they crept through the vacant halls of Shibusen, hand in hand. He led her to a large door that was boldly labeled "Music Hall."

"Your ticket please," a soft voice called from the shadows. Maka started, but she smiled when her best friend, Tsubaki, materialized before her.

"Tsubaki, you…"

"Hey, who else could have convinced Miss Marie to keep this place open just for tonight? Certainly not Soul," the sweet-natured girl teased.

Ignoring her taunting, Soul flashed her a tight grin and handed her the "ticket" he had stuffed into his coat pocket. Once she "approved" the paper, Tsubaki silently led them into the hall, toward the grand piano and a little chair off to the side.

"Your seat, ma'am." Tsubaki bowed, a grin tickling at the corners of her lips.

"Why thank you," Maka returned with mock sophistication, not even trying to hold back an excited grin.

As soon as she sat, though, everything changed. The grin disappeared from her cheeks and fierce trepidation glittered in her eyes. Her fingers gripped the chair until her knuckles were pure white, and her breathing came in short, shallow gasps.

She couldn't breathe.

Her heart pounded in her chest, her gut, her ears, the palpitations seeming to jar her entire body.

Everything was crashing around her.

She forgot to tell Soul about her leaky bathroom faucet. If she didn't tell him, it might drip so much that their bill would go out the roof!

They might have left the air conditioner running in the apartment.

Had she turned her iron off when she left?

Would Blair have enough food if something happened to her?

Did Soul's motorcycle have enough gas to get them home?

All of these unprecedented, but troubling, thoughts crashed through her mind, obscuring the elation that had filled her chest just moments ago.

Her stomach churned viciously as she doubled over, trying to curl into herself in the plastic chair.

She was going to throw up.

No…

Not here…

Not _now_…

Not in front of…!

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and one on each of her knees, even as she spun out of control. She looked up, and she could just make out Tsubaki's usually serene features, now distorted with apprehension. She looked forward into a pair of blazing crimson eyes, burning with concern, confusion, and possibly, was it, fear?

"Maka," he was calling. "Maka, what's wrong?...Please, Maka, pull yourself together!"

The world began to blur, and she suddenly felt herself being pulled into his strong arms. Though she was safe in his grip, she couldn't fight off the darkness and terror that seemed to swallow her whole...

* * *

According to Tsubaki, the attack only lasted for a few minutes, but, to her and to Soul, it had seemed like hours. He fretted over her in a way she had never seen before, insisting on carrying her to a hospital, or home, if she preferred. All the while, Tsubaki calmly tried to explain the situation to Soul. Maka had a panic disorder, which involved episodes called panic attacks. Thanks to her medication, they didn't come often, but, when they did, this was what it was like.

"Medication? I've never seen you take meds." He stated, his tone almost accusatory.

"I take it before you get up," The meister replied timidly. "It's not a big deal. I didn't want to worry you."

He fell oddly silent at this remark. Then, he stood and said, "Let's go home. I'll play for you another day, I promise, but we need to get you home, now."

"Soul, I'm fi-" Maka tried to get to her feet, but she suddenly felt light–headed, and her knees buckled and bent from beneath her. Tsubaki cried out, but Soul caught her before she could fall.

"Maka, you're not fine! We're going home. Now."

Placing one hand on her waist and sliding the other into hers, Soul carefully led Maka from the hall and out to his bike. Tossing Tsubaki a terse, "Thanks for everything," he revved the engine and sped off toward their apartment, leaving Tsubaki, smiling, but still a bit shaken, in their wake.


	4. Resolution

"Are you sure you're okay? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is the dizziness gone?"

"Soul!" Maka placed her hand on his arm. "I'm fine. I promise."

She gently squeezed his arm and gave him a weary smile, but his face retained an apprehensive glare. Suddenly, he was next to her on their sofa, pulling her into his arms, as he had done not an hour before. With her ear against his chest, his arms around her, he held her, rocking slightly. She was confused, to say the least. Soul wasn't usually one to be so touchy, and especially not so many times in one day, but she decided that she kind of enjoyed the attention. Her mother was never one to be overly affectionate and her father…well, he used affection of any sort on women, and not her or her mother. As she leaned against him, listening to his crazed heartbeat, she was at ease.

Just when the prolonged embrace began to worry her, she felt his grip loosen as something slid into her palm. Glancing down, her eyes absorbed the milky white tissue of the lump from her birthday card. Looking into Soul's slightly uneasy gaze, she cocked an eyebrow inquiringly. Finally relaxing a bit, he shot her a hesitant, but characteristically crooked, grin.

"Go ahead," he prodded shyly.

Carefully peeling back the layers of tissue, Maka gasped when a heart-shaped ruby caught the light above them. The lovely stone was set in a gold band, and, as she slid it on her trembling finger, she realized that it fit her perfectly.

"Oh Soul," she breathed, tears pooling in her eyes. "I…I can't accept this."

"But..." He started, his grin fading a bit and his voice quivering just a tad. "Only you can."

Gently taking her hand, he slid the ring from her finger and pointed to the inner side of the band. Following his gesture, Maka carefully scanned the inner layer of gold, finally allowing the tears to flow as she savored each word.

_I love you, Maka._

"Soul, do-" She stopped, for his face fell as soon as he predicted her question. "I love you too," she giggled through a stream of joyful droplets. She threw her arms around his neck and tenderly pressed her lips to his, the sweet bliss of finally realized love washing over her. He returned the embrace with as much vigor.

Pulling away and chuckling softly, Soul murmured, "Well, you were supposed to read the card before we kissed, but I guess that's not the only thing-" he cut off, blushing at his carelessness.

"It's okay." Maka assured him before he could choke out an apology. "I should have told you about the panic attacks, but-"

"I know. You didn't want to worry me." She thought she detected a hint of irritation in his tone. However, she realized it was not irritation, but frustration. Was he mad at her?

Soul had to swallow before he could continue. "You didn't want me to worry about you…But that's just it Maka!" he cried. "I _always_ worry about you. You _always_ put yourself out there on missions, trying to protect _me_ rather than worrying about _your own_ safety. You try so hard to keep _me_ from getting hurt, but I. Am. Your. Weapon." He emphasized each word with passion, his voice rising as he released a flood of emotions that he had been holding back for so long. "_I'm_ supposed to risk myself to protect you. It's what's expected of me, and it's what I'm prepared to do! Don't take it on yourself to protect me, Maka! I don't need your protection! How uncool does it look for a meister to be protecting her weapon when it's the weapon's job to protect the meister?!"

He paused, realizing that he was gripping his chest where his scar was. He quickly glanced at her and saw that she was crying, but not tears of joy this time.

"Maka." He took her hand. "Let me protect you. Let me worry about you. I want to be the one who has sleepless nights, worrying about your safety. I want to be the one who hounds you to take your medication. I want to be the one who constantly monitors you for signs of a panic attack. I want to be the one who throws everything aside to protect your life, rather than mine." She sobs at this, and he takes her back into his arms, murmuring into her hair as he continues to hold her. "I want to be here for you, Maka, in every part of your life. I want you to know that I'm here for you, and I want you to love me enough, to trust me enough, to let me do that, to let me be…your hero." He blushed at the cliché phrase, but it really was what he wanted. He wanted to be everything to this smart, strong, courageous, passionate, beautiful creature he had come to love so much. He wanted to love and cherish her for the rest of his life, and he wanted her to love him as much as he loved her, though he knew that was next to impossible…

"It's too late." He jerked at the sound of her voice and the meaning of her words. "It's too late, Soul, because…because you are my hero." She pulled away from him, looking into his eyes and commanding his gaze as she continued.

"When my papa signed me up for the DWMA, I heard so many stories about my parents, about how my mama was an amazing meister who somehow turned my loser papa into a powerful Death Scythe. For some reason, those stories sparked a desire in me. I wanted to live up to my mama's legacy, and live down my papa's. I wanted to make a Death Scythe, one better than my papa, to show them…and to show myself….that I could really DO something amazing, just like my mama!" She gushed; excited, really, at recalling her feelings of elation and determination when she first entered Shibusen.

"But…I couldn't find a partner. Sure, people wanted to work with Death Scythe's daughter, but none of them stuck around for long. One Maka chop and they were out the door." She chuckled bitterly.

"But then you came along and said you'd be my partner. You swooped in and unknowingly saved my world. After you stumbled into my life, I had an apartment of my very own, I was finally moving up in Shibusen, I had a pretty cool partner," she winked at him at this. "And…everything was okay." She sighed. "Life was so good, with you and me." She paused, taking in a deep breath.

"But…Then you got hurt. And it was all because of me. It felt like everything was crumbling again, like I had failed you, failed my mama, and failed myself. I really thought I was going to lose you, Soul, and I believed that if I lost you, I lost all hope of making an amazing Death Scythe. I lost all hope of doing anything, really, because I couldn't imagine doing anything without you." She shot him a half-hearted smile.

"It made me realize that you really were my hero, that it was you who always came and saved me in the end. I realized that I couldn't function unless you were with me. And I hated it." She chuckled at his wide-eyed gawk. "I mean, I hated being so dependent. I hated realizing how weak I had become, how much I depended on another person to help me and to fulfill me. I felt like my father." She grimaced. "And I hated it. So, I tried to become stronger, so that you wouldn't have to worry about me, or save me, or feel the need to be the hero to my 'damsel in distress.'"

"But-" Soul tried to interject.

"I know." Maka consoled him. "You want to worry about me, to protect me, to be my hero. And I get that. I appreciate that. It's sweet of you, Soul, but that's just not me. The damsel in distress just isn't who I am, or who I want to be."

She giggled when she detected his disappointed stare. "But, if it really makes you happy, I'll let you be my personally designated panic attack monitor and medicine technician. Death knows I could use a little help in those areas, and I believe you're qualified for the job," she teased.

Soul let out an exasperated, but affectionate, sigh, and nodded in agreement. Taking her hand, he pulled out the engraved band of gold and slowly slid it onto her slender finger, kissing her knuckles once it was secure. Settling into the couch, Maka's head resting satisfactorily on Soul's shoulder, they sat in silence for a few moments, each just enjoying the other's company.

"Yes," Soul suddenly whispered into the still air, wiggling from under Maka's cheek so he could face her.

"Yes?" Maka questioned, brow quirked.

"To your question earlier." He replied softly. "You were going to ask if I really love you, right?"

She blushed.

"The answer is yes, Maka, I do, and I want every eligible bachelor in Shibusen to know it, too!" He proclaimed with a wide, arrogant grin.

"Of course, Soul!" Maka erupted into elated giggles as she threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek and resting her own against his chest to listen to the haphazard rhythm of her beloved's heart and soul. As he wrapped his arms around her, settling into the sofa once more, she was certain of this: she would always be safe and at home in his arms.


End file.
